


Beginnings

by CatalenaMara



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AO3 1 Million, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:24:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1190145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatalenaMara/pseuds/CatalenaMara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings:  Brutal hazing –verbal and physical, offensive language,  species-ism.<br/>Other Pairings:  Kirk/Janice Lester<br/>Summary:  An AU fic extremely loosely based on the 1980s Harve Bennett proposal for a Star Trek TV series titled “The Academy Years”.  Kirk, in his plebe year, is embroiled in a tempestuous relationship with the volatile Janice Lester and otherwise is completely focused on the upcoming Axanar mission. Upperclassman Finnegan is doing his best to make Kirk’s life hell. Kirk’s life is complicated enough. Then he meets the only Vulcan at the academy, a man he finds absolutely fascinating - and runs headlong into the one remaining prejudice on Earth - prejudice against aliens.<br/>Notes:  Originally published in the print fanzine Legends # 7 in March 2012.  My thanks to Dovya Blacque for her excellent edit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings

 

I.

“Fucking green blood bastard go home.”

Cadet Kirk saw the laser-etched scrawl on the men’s room wall as soon as he stepped up to the urinal – and simultaneously realized the only Vulcan attending Starfleet Academy was standing at the urinal next to him. He resisted the temptation to look, despite all the wild rumors.

Finished, he moved over to the sonic hand-cleanser. As did the Vulcan.

He turned and met the Vulcan’s gaze. They shared no classes, and though Kirk had occasionally seen him walking on the campus grounds, they had never met.

The Vulcan’s face was as stony and expressionless as everyone said. Not a hint of emotion altered the lines of the stern face, the closed gaze.

“We’re not all like that, you know,” Kirk said.

Something flickered in the Vulcan’s eyes and disappeared. “It is of no consequence.”

“My name’s Jim Kirk.” He didn’t offer his hand. Do not touch a Vulcan without their consent. Prof. John Gill had run through Xeno etiquette in regards to current non-Human Starfleet attendees – all three of them – in record time; the slightest coldness in his voice stating his impatience with having to deal with the subject matter at all.

A fleeting expression crossed the Vulcan’s face, so quickly Jim could barely believe he had seen it, much less interpret it. “I am Spock.”

“It’s good to meet you, Spock.”

Spock inclined his head in a brief bow. “Cadet Kirk. You are on command track training.”

It didn’t surprise Kirk that Spock knew this – his reputation for being knowledgeable about all aspects of Academy life was often commented on by people who shared classes with him.

“And you’re in sciences. Prof. McHenry is always using you as an example we should look up to.”

Again, the slightest trace of an expression crossed the near-motionless face. Could Kirk interpret it as surprise?

“If he’s right about the future of warp drive technology, one day we may be able to go beyond Warp 6.” Kirk lost himself for a second in imagining piloting a ship with that much speed.

“Indeed,” Spock said. “The odds are that starships will be able to exceed warp drive 6 within the next five standard years are 97.5%.”

“97.5?” Kirk said, amused. “You’re sure of that.”

“Affirmative,” Spock said, and Kirk recognized the glint in his eyes as being that of a true techie. “Taking into consideration that…”

They continued their conversation in the hallway, then outside into plaza. It was a gorgeous October San Francisco day, sunny and bright. Kirk noticed that Spock immediately sealed his Academy jacket, and remembered that most of Vulcan was a hot desert by Earth standards. He figured Spock would probably feel cold almost anywhere on Earth.

They were deep into a conversation about astrophysics when he saw Finnegan and a couple of his flunkeys heading in their direction. Finnegan’s pale hair and glittering upperclassperson’s tunic flashed in the afternoon sunlight. A grin spread across his face when he spotted Kirk. Kirk didn’t slow his pace, but he heaved an inward sigh. Finnegan’s two pals had seen Kirk as well, and feral anticipation lit their faces. The heavily-muscled Branson, looking like he was about to burst out of his uniform, was slightly to Finnegan’s left, and the smaller-by-a-hair ratfaced Morris was by his right side. Both men, Kirk had long since decided, were clearly headed for brilliant careers as redshirts.

Finnegan stopped dramatically and pulled a face of mocking shock. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our resident wonder boy.” He made his voice into a high falsetto. “Look

like he’s made a new best bud.”

Branson and Morris flanked him, making a big show of looking Kirk and Spock up and down. “Careful, Jimmyboy, of the company you keep. I’ve heard these green bloods have weird habits.”

Fury filled Kirk. He kept his voice calm. “Ignore them,” he said to Spock, who had gone very still.

Finnegan rubbed his hands together, and aimed a shit-eating grin at Spock. His two pals hulked next to him, wide grins plastering their faces as well.

“Ah, you want the alien to ignore us, Jimmyboy? You keep forgetting – you can’t ignore us – plebe!” He shoved Kirk hard in the chest.

Kirk staggered back a couple of paces. Regaining his footing, he saw his fist impact with Finnegan’s face, crushing his nose, sending blood and snot flying--

Stop! He froze, about to raise his fist, adrenaline demanding he fulfill his fantasy. Finnegan sneered. He forced himself to breathe, to stand rock still. He had to just stand here and take it. He had learned how to take much worse years ago. Finnegan and his minions were nothing. He met Finnegan’s condescending expression with what he hoped was a blank gaze.

“Now that expression doesn’t look all that respectful, Jimmyboy. Want to spend the night shining my boots?”

“No, sir,” Kirk mumbled.

“I can’t hear you!” Finnegan put a hand to an ear and pushed his face forward.

“No, sir,” Kirk repeated, more loudly this time.

“That’s better.” Finnegan smirked. He shoved Kirk hard backward; Kirk sprawled on the hard sidewalk.

Kirk leaped back to his feet and got into Finnegan’s face. Finnegan grinned and pointed at his chin. “You want a go at me, Jimmyboy? You want a go?” His two friends showed their teeth and cracked their knuckles. Spock remained standing a pace or two away.

Kirk took a deep breath and stepped back.

Finnegan cackled gleefully. “Farmboy here is wetting his pants, he’s so scared! He’d rather hang out with that scrawny cow he’s dating or – ” he glanced at Spock, “ – suck up to aliens. This guy’s daddy is so important. What do you think, Jimmyboy, that this green blood here can give you a leg up? In a manner of speaking?”

“You piece of shit!” The words escaped before Kirk could prevent them.  
“Ah ah ah!” Finnegan said. “That’s a reportable offense, Jimmyboy”.

“And I’ll just bet you’ll report it.”

They glared at each for a moment, then Finnegan turned his attention to Spock. “Since when do green bloods hang out with humans? Aren’t you all ever so much better than us?”

Spock directed a calm gaze back. “It is logical to associate with humans, since I am enrolled at this institution, and humans comprise the vast majority of beings here.”

“Slumming, are you?”  
Spock paused for an instant. “I do not recognize the idiom.”

“Well, recognize it or not, you’re doing it by hanging around with farmboy.” Finnegan sketched a mocking salute. “See ya, Jimmyboy. Be good now.”

Finnegan’s mocking laughter trailed off into the distance as he and his two compatriots headed toward campus center.

“Most illogical behavior,” Spock commented, gazing thoughtfully after the three men.

Kirk bunched his shoulders, adrenaline racing through every cell in his body. “We can’t all be logical, like Vulcans,” he snapped. He turned to glare at Spock, then some of the anger drained out of him at the sight of Spock’s quickly-concealed startled look. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“I understand that you are not permitted to respond to his verbal or physical provocations.”

“No. It’s something I have to live with right now. It won’t be forever. I’m a ‘plebe’ – we’re expected to just ‘take it’.”

“I am familiar with the custom.” There was a slight stiffness to Spock’s words, and Kirk suddenly realized how many different intonations he’d already heard in the Vulcan’s supposedly nonemotional voice. “It is my understanding that upperclasspersons are permitted great latitude in both verbal and physical abuse of underclasspersons.”

Kirk shrugged. “I guess things like this - or what happened back there – “ – he jerked his head in the general direction of the building they had just come from, the memory of those laser-etched words burned in his mind – “ – don’t happen on Vulcan. It’s not very logical, is it?”

Spock hesitated a moment longer than necessary. “No. It is not logical.”

His gaze hinted at some hidden pain. Kirk wondered suddenly why he had had thought the Vulcan was completely unreadable. “He’s just so damn juvenile. Can you believe it, he left a cold soup-pak in my bed – one of the big ones.”

“I had a similar experience 22.7 days ago. It was not, however, soup.”

Kirk paused, and then didn’t ask. “I’m sorry.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “You have no need to apologize – you had nothing to do with the incident.”

“Our customs must seem odd to you.”

“No more so than any other cultures. I expect that Vulcan customs seem similarly unusual to those from other planets.”

“I can’t wait to go offworld. There are so many places I’d like to visit, to explore.”

“Have you ever visited another world?”

Kirk felt every muscle tighten. “Only one.” He tried to lighten his tone. “Well, and Lunaport, of course.”

“Did you have a chance to study another culture at that time?”

“It was a colony world.” Kirk managed to speak normally. “I didn’t see much of it.”

“Were you quite young?”

“Not so young. I was 13.”

“May you have many opportunities to explore other cultures in the future. “

Kirk smiled at the formal words. “And you? How many worlds have you seen?”

“19,” Spock said without hesitation.

“So many – how did you get the opportunity?”

“I travelled with my family.”

Remember Finnegan’s implication, and suddenly curious, he asked, “What kind of work do they do?”

Spock glanced past him, toward the campus center. “I cannot continue our conversation now. I am due at an astrophysics class in 4.25 minutes. Perhaps we can continue our conversation at some other time?”

Kirk smiled, “I’d like that. It’s been good meeting you.”

Spock hesitated a moment, and Kirk got the impression he was mentally sorting through his knowledge of human customs. “It has been interesting meeting and speaking with you.” He walked away without another word.

Kirk took a moment to watch him walk away. He was still seriously pissed off at Finnegan, and he felt equally furious about the way Spock was being treated. But he also found himself intrigued by – what? His new friend? Not that friendship with a Vulcan was likely, or even possible. But still…

He was heading toward the History building when his comm buzzed with Janice’s signal. He detached it from his belt. “Hi Janice.”

“Hey Jim, I got out early so Carol and I are heading to Zephram’s. Meet you there?”

“Prof. Gill’s called a meeting on the Axanar mission. I’ll meet you after it’s done.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit, and Kirk forestalled her inevitable complaints about not being among the cadets chosen to participate in the upcoming mission by saying, “I met that Vulcan today – Spock. Interesting guy.”

“Really.” Janice didn’t seem all that interested. “What are Vulcans doing in Starfleet anyway? They’ve got their own fleet. Listen, Carol was telling me that Gary was able to rent an MX-3000 for our trip up the coast.”

“Yes! It’s a sweet one, too – I can’t wait to pilot it.” Kirk, quite passionate about speedboats, as was Janice. He reached the history building while still praising the merits of the MX-3000. “Hey, Janice, gotta go. See you later.”

“See you later, Jim.” She winked at him and cut the comm.

He was smiling to himself as he entered the history building, Finnegan and his chance meeting with the Vulcan forgotten. He’d only known Janice Lester for a few weeks, but she’d already become a large part of his life. She was nothing like the girls he’d known back in Iowa. Intense, passionate, and full of coiled-wire energy, she was always ready to try anything new, and was equally vocal about her passions and her dislikes. He was sorry she hadn’t been chosen for the Axanar mission, but he was determined not to let her disappointment interrupt his focus on what was now the chief priority in his life – preparation for the upcoming mission. He would be going back out into space soon – this time, by his choice, this time being a part of those who were going out to help others – just as Starfleet had saved him on Tarsus just a few years ago.

He stepped inside the meeting room. The seats were filling fast. He turned his entire attention to Professor Gill and Captain Garrovick, who were already present; Janice now out of his mind as well.

 

* * * * *

 Several days later, Kirk decided to do his Saturday run near Telegraph Hill. It was nearly noon, and he was warming up and enjoying the bright fall sunshine when a familiar figure stepped out the vegan restaurant to his left.

He stopped in surprise, realizing he’d never seen Spock off campus.

Spock stopped and regarded him solemnly. “I regret being the cause of your demerits, Cadet Kirk.”

“Finnegan was the cause of my demerits.”

Silence stretched out. Kirk broke it by glancing at Telegraph Hill. “I was thinking of climbing up to Coit Tower. Want to join me?”

Spock contemplated the white tower on top of the imposing hill. “I would like to view the historic structure. Early 20th century construction. I understand it has a number of art murals of note.”

“That it does, but the view from the top of the hill is the best part of going up there.” Kirk headed toward the footpath leading to the summit. Spock fell in by his side.

The sidewalks were crowded at this time of day; the shops and restaurants busy. And yet there was always room for them to pass others on the sidewalks. Kirk noticed it, the subtle, or blatant ways, people flinched back from Spock.

Spock seemed unaware of their response. Kirk bit back his words and led the way up the hill.

 

* * * * *

It was another gorgeous clear sunny October day. The view from on top of the hill was spectacular. Spock had proved knowledgeable about the murals inside the tower; he was equally knowledgeable about all the structures of interest visible from their vantage point, from the Golden Gate Bridge to Alcatraz Island.

Kirk pointed out something far more interesting: the many sailboats and other watercraft dotting the water.

“Let’s sit here and watch.” They settled on the sun-warmed grass, a light breeze caressing their faces and sifting through the leaves of the trees behind them.

“Look at that one.” A ship, rigged out with the masting and sails of centuries past, sailed regally toward the bridge.

“A historic recreation for the coastal exhibition on the 24th,”Spock reported, but Kirk noticed the trace of a gleam in his eyes.

Kirk followed the passage of the ship. “The ocean was endless back then… all those years ago. You’d set out with no idea of what you’d encounter, what people you’d meet, what the places would look like. You’d set out with no idea if you’d ever return.”

“Infinite possibilities.”

Startled at this evidence of imagination, Kirk turned to contemplate the angular profile next to him. Eyes the color of his favorite Ghirardelli chocolate and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. The sunlight on what had seemed the blackest of hair brought out a hidden reddish glint and highlighted the faint green undertone to his skin. Green blood, Kirk remembered. Curious, though, the pink tone to his lips. Kirk smiled inwardly at himself for noticing that detail.

Spock was watching the ship as it headed for the ocean, but his eyes seemed fixed on some further shore.

“You feel it too.”

Spock turned to him, a raised eyebrow signaling indignation as clearly as if he had said it out loud.

Kirk laughed. “Sorry. I meant to say, the prospect of exploring deep space and encountering new lives and new civilizations holds intellectual appeal for you.”

Spock raised another eyebrow. “You are most perceptive, Cadet Kirk.”

“Call me Jim. That’s what my friends do.”

“’Friends’,” Spock said, as if tasting the word. “A term denoting a close acquaintanceship.”

“That it does.”

Spock regarded him for a moment, an unreadable expression in the alien eyes. “Then I will do so, Jim.”

Kirk turned his attention back to the bay. “Look – there’s a MX-3000.” He pointed out a sleek powerboat cutting through the waves. “I’m going out with some friends on one of those later this month – we’re going to go up the coast. Want to join us?”

“I – “ Spock uncharacteristically stammered, then fell silent.

“It’s just for the day,” Kirk said encouragingly.

“I… appreciate the invitation,” Spock said slowly, picking his way carefully through the words, as if he had suddenly lost his command of Standard. “I would be… pleased… to accept.”

“Great!” Kirk said. “I’ll comm you the details.”

Spock turned his attention back to the sundazzled water and began describing the various watercraft models and their capabilities. Since Kirk also liked to expound on that subject, it was easy to get lost in mechanical capabilities and specifications. When at last they left, Kirk realized he was starved and suggested the same vegan restaurant Spock had patronized earlier. To his surprise, Spock agreed.

The small space was decorated with Academy posters done in a retro style and holo images of Federation worlds mounted on tangerine-colored walls. The place was crowded with Academy cadets and civilian students from San Francisco University and the place was cheerily noisy with conversation and cutlery.

Once seated, Kirk scanned the holo-menu at their table. “What would you recommend?”

Spock indicated a selection. “I find this pasta casserole to be acceptable.”  
Kirk smiled, and mentally decided to translate ‘acceptable’ to ‘delicious’. ”All right, I’ll try that.”

The restaurant had a selection of alien drinks. Spock chose a sharp-smelling tea. Kirk tried it as well, winced at the bitter taste, and went for water instead. The casserole, however, was excellent, full of mushrooms, eggplant, and some broccoli-like alien vegetable from Alpha Centauri that was the latest fad. He ate it with gusto.

“Tell me what space is like,” he said. “You said you’ve been to 19 different planets? Does that include Earth and Vulcan.”

“Yes,” Spock said. “My father is in the diplomatic corp. We have been to 17 worlds other than Vulcan and Earth.”

Kirk finished his meal, sipped coffee and asked questions. He learned that Spock had visited all of the other founding Federation planets, Andoria, Tellar, and Alpha Centauri, as well as worlds currently being considered for membership.

“What was the most interesting race of beings you’ve ever encountered?”

Spock considered. “There are beings on Draymus IV that are non-aggregate beings. They resemble, in earth terms, a hive. Individual components can be hundreds of kilometers apart from each other, and yet all are mentally linked and comprise a unified being.”

“How was first contact made?”

“Telepathically, and then by means of an adapted Universal Translator. They do not share many frames of reference with most known intelligent life forms. Communication has remained difficult.”

“I can’t wait to get out there. Everything that I’ve read, everything that I’ve watched shows me there’s so much we can discover, so many new things to learn.”

Spock nodded. “There is an infinite wealth of knowledge in the universe.”

“What are your ambitions in Starfleet?”

“I would prefer to be assigned to a Constitution Class ship, one designated for a five year exploration mission. An assignment of that nature would offer multiple opportunities for scientific exploration and discovery.”

“I want to be assigned to a Constitution class, as well.” Kirk didn’t add, out of respect to Vulcan sensibilities, ‘with a fierce burning passion’ or that he’d dreamed about this for the last several years. Had dreamed about it every since he’d spent so many days in a tiny cramped crowded filthy room on Tarsus, searching the night sky through a single slit of a window, waiting for the ships, and help, to come. “And I’ll have the chance to see what it will be like – at least in some small way – very soon.”

“You have been assigned to the Axanar mission,” Spock said. “That is a most prestigious assignment.”

Kirk whistled. “Gary told me you know everything.”

“Not everything.” And there it was, just the faintest hint of a smug smile on Spock’s mouth.

Kirk chuckled. He couldn’t help it, and when Spock raised one eyebrow entirely independently of the other, he laughed out loud. “Sorry.”

“I have said nothing amusing.” But the sparkle in Spock’s eyes said something else entirely.

The waiter suggested dessert, some kind of nut and apple concoction, which they both agreed to try. Kirk had coffee; Spock had more tea, and they kept right on talking until the restaurant closed for the evening.

* * * * *

The next time Kirk saw Spock was just after he stepped out of the security conference room at the Student Center, head filled with the details of everything he needed to prepare before the upcoming Axanar mission. The light-filled lobby was filled with students clustered in the various seating groupings, conversing intensely or sprawled on couches focused on their padds.

Spock was in one of the small niche-chambers, seated alone at a table for two, concentrating on Tri-D chess set.

Kirk walked up behind him and studied the game in progress. “Bet I can beat you,” he said.

Spock didn’t seem in the least bit surprised by his presence. “Wagers are illogical.” He nodded toward the other seat. “No Human has ever ‘beaten’ me in chess.”

Kirk gave him a cocky grin. “Then I’ll be the first.”

Spock reset the board. Kirk took white and went first, playing aggressively, his opening gambit gaining him quick ground. Spock matched him move for move, taking only seconds of contemplation for each play and had soon taken the advantage again. Pawns were sacrificed, rooks met their fates, heavy losses were taken on both sides. Then Spock found his opening. Kirk stared ruefully at the board. His king was in an indefensible position. He tipped his king.

Spock sat up straight and the tiniest of smiles played on his lips. “As I informed you, no Human has ever beaten me in chess.”

Kirk, pleased at more evidence of Vulcan emotion, promised, “I will, next time.”

“Rematch?” Spock indicated the board.

“Not today.” Kirk checked the time. “I have a student meeting to attend.” Kirk stood.

“I, too, have duties to perform.” Spock packed away the chess set and they walked side by side out of the student center and stopped in the outside plaza. Kirk gestured to his left to indicate his destination. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

“I anticipate our next game.”

There it was again, that tiny smile. Kirk responded with one of his own, and they parted to head to their separate destinations.

 

 * * * * *

The MX-3000 cut through the coastal waves, racing north with Kirk at the controls. Kirk felt intoxicated by the sun, the sharp salt tang of the air, and the sheer glorious beauty of the California coastline. To his right craggy cliffs jutted up sharply from the water, then flattened, their tops coated with trees. To his left, an infinite ocean. And ahead, a challenging, rock-strewn coastline. Just the kind he liked.

“Faster!” Janice, to his right, urged, and he obliged, stepping up the speed a notch, mirroring the path of the coastline. Behind him Carol Marcus, sitting next to Gary, was laughing over some joke Gary had just told. He was very aware of the silent presence of the Vulcan, also behind him.

Janice had been pissed last night – at him for inviting the Vulcan along – “This is a couples trip! Why do we need an extra?” – and at her professors who “had it in for her”. He had made the mistake of suggesting she spent a bit more time studying, and she had raged on for a several minutes about how everyone in the world was mistreating her. He had stopped her complaints the usual way, with his mouth on hers and his hands on her body. They’d torn their clothing off, caressed and fondled and grasped. They’d grappled for position, and she’d wound up on top for most of the action, a ferocious goddess seized by passion. Sex with Janice was like grabbing electricity; the angrier she got the better the sex was.

Now, she seemed to have forgotten her anger in her glee over speed and getting away from the campus. She gripped the safety bar with one hand. The other gripped his waist. Flashes of last night, of her face and body, ecstatic in orgasm as he pumped into her, shot through his mind and into his dick. Half-hard now, intoxicated with the speed, the rush of salt air and the dazzle of sunlight on the water made him laugh for sheer joy. He brushed her knee with one hand, then gripped the wheel, all his concentration on steering the motorboat to avoid the rocky islets spattered along this curve of coastline. Each turn brought more gorgeous scenery – furrowed wooded cliffsides plummeting to the water, tiny patches of rocky beach - as they flashed past. He shot the boat straight along the cliff-face around the next bend.

“Hey Jim!” Gary yelled over the sound of the engine. “My turn!”

Kirk brought the speedboat to a halt, where it lay bobbing in the choppy water. Gary took his place, Carol beside him, her gleaming blond hair tied in jagged-pattern net. He settled in the rear seat. Janice had positioned herself as far away from Spock as she could get, so he settled between them. Gary gunned the boat and they were off like a rocket blast.

The Vulcan, wrapped warmly in heavy clothing and hood, was silent, staring at the coastline with what appeared rapt fascination. In the small space, their bodies were pressed close together, creating a cocoon of warmth in the lower half of his body, with the contrast of the cold sea air on his head and shoulders. Spock turned to glance at him. “You handle the boat most capably.”

“She’s a beauty,” Kirk enthused, speaking loudly to be heard about the engine noise. “Best of her class.”

“Would you like to own one of these yourself?”

“I can’t afford one. Besides, I have bigger ideas than that.”

Spock raised a brow. “Bigger ideas?”

Janice grabbed Kirk’s hand, leaned in front of him and shouted, “He wants his own ship.”

“What type of ship?”

Kirk squeezed Janice’s hand. “I don’t intend to stay planetbound for long.”

Gary took a curve at speed, and Kirk found himself leaning against the Vulcan, barely aware of Janice leaning against him. Quick impression of strength, whipcord muscles, heat. Spock had pulled his hood back, and his face, cheeks green-flushed with the wind and cold, was inches from his own. What would it be like to kiss those stern lips? Kirk smiled at his own fantasy. Then Gary straightened their course and they righted themselves.

Janice tapped Kirk’s arm, and he turned toward her. She squeezed his hand tightly, her eyes gleaming. Her gaze shifted past him to Spock, then back to him again. She offered Kirk her lips and he tilted into the kiss, devouring her mouth for a moment, then pulled away, suddenly aware that the man on his right had shifted slightly away from him.

Right. Vulcan’s are not much for PDA.

Janice looked at him questioningly, and he caressed her hand, his eyes promising, Later.

They pulled into Bodega Bay for an early lunch. They chose one of the beach restaurants. The restaurant, built on a pier, was a ramshackle wooden affair, built to mimic the look of buildings that had been in style centuries ago. Netting, shells, and excellent reproductions of swordfish were hung on the exterior walls, meant to imply that fisherman had just brought in huge catches of local fish.

A host led them at an outdoor wooden table. Janice followed Gary and Carol, and as soon as they were seated she touched Kirk’s left shoulder as she chose her own seat, motioning to the seat to the right of her. He settled in, noticing as he did so that Spock had taken the only empty seat, the one at the end, furthest away from him.

“So how did you meet Jim?” Gary asked Spock. Kirk gave him the eye; he’d told Gary the details of their meeting the day it happened. Gary grinned at him impudently.

“In the lower level men’s room in the political science building,” Spock replied.

Gary guffawed.

Kirk said warningly, “Gary!”

“I fail to see what I said to provoke amusement,” Spock said, and Kirk could see a trace of irritation on his face.

“Don’t mind him.” Carol covered Gary’s hand with her own and gave him a fond look. “I think he thinks he’s still in middle school.”

Gary looked entirely unrepentant. “Seriously, I hear you had problems with Finnegan. Don’t worry; we’ll get our turn when we’re upperclasspersons.”

“I have never seen the logic of ritualized harassment between one group of beings and another.”

“Tradition, what can we poor humans say? I hear Vulcans are big on that.”

“That is accurate.” Spock surveyed Gary serenely. “Certain traditions are logical.”

“Well, you won’t find much logic around here,” Carol commented, aiming a look at Gary.

The server returned, and he, Gary and Carol ordered fish tacos. Janice selected a complicated salad, and Spock chose a bean casserole dish from the vegetarian portion of the menu.

“Spock – is it appropriate to call you that?” Carol continued, “We’re off campus; I hate saying ‘cadet this’ and ‘cadet that’ all the time.”

“It is appropriate,” he said.

“Do you have another name you’d prefer we use?”

“’Spock’ corresponds to what you would refer to as a ‘given name’. My clan name is for use in formal occasions.”

The server came back with drinks and a huge basket of appetizers. He and Gary grabbed slices of cheese jalapeño bread. Seagulls, perched on the railing separating them from the ocean, squawked and shrieked. A forcefield kept them away from the tables, but didn’t block their raucous calls or the sight of their greedy eyes.

“So,” Gary fixed Spock with an intent gaze, “Since Jim here will be part of the Axanar peace mission, and as we know we all have to keep an eye on him,” he grinned at Janice, “What does your dad think of the chances of it being a success?”

“My father and I have not had occasion to discuss the matter.” Spock’s tone was forbidding.

“There are serious political questions,” Carol pointed out. “Have they actually eliminated their caste system? And should we be bringing worlds into the Federation when a significant portion of their population is opposed to the Federation?”

Janice nibbled at a roll. “Axanari medical compounds are a valuable resource. Just because a few malcontents want to stay in the stone age, why should they be allowed to drag the rest of their world down? There are three planets that would have been decimated by plague without those medications.”

Gary interjected, “Don’t forget, they make aphrodisiacs as well.” Carol elbowed him again. He gave her an impish smile.

Kirk said, “Captain Garth’s victory is one of the most brilliant and significant in the last century. If the peace talks are successful, an entire sector could move into a new era of peace and prosperity. Spock? What do you think?”

“Despite Captain Garth’s victory, that system remains highly politically unstable. There are many in the Fabari government who opposed Federation membership for Axanar. The Axanari themselves are a fascinating people – they have nearly twice the Vulcan lifespan, and are among the few peoples considered for Federation membership who are truly andrognynous.”

“Twice the fun!” Gary chimed in.

Janice commented, “Ick, Gary. Would you want to do it with a lizard?”

“Hey, I’ll try anything once.” Carol punched his arm. He winked.

The server brought the rest of their food, and they dug in.

Janice forked a lettuce leaf, and fixed Spock with an intent gaze. “Remember, it was Captain Archer’s crew who first encountered the Axanari – not the Vulcans, who were advising against the contact. Why do Vulcans not consider first contact important?

Spock fixed Janice with an equally intent gaze, “I have studied that mission. It was one individual Vulcan, a woman named T’Pol, who expressed that opinion. Vulcans find much value in what can be learned from contact with other beings.”

“I think the Vulcans and Humans agree,” Kirk said. “There is such potential in every first contact – there is so much to be learned from different cultures and species.”

Gary broke in, “Now you’re sounding like a Starfleet recruiting vidcast.”

Carol chuckled. “Oh Gary, don’t be a butt.”

Gary laughed. “Kidding! Hey Jim, it’s a shame you’re going to miss the Speedball matchup – I have my money on Köhler making the biggest score.”

“No way that’s going to happen. Solovyov will wind up on top.”

Sports talk consumed most of the rest of the meal, with everyone but Spock ardently supporting their favorite. Finally, after they finished paying the bill and were heading back to the dock, Gary said, “Hey Spock, who would you pick?”

“Logically, Solovyov will win.” Spock then proceeded to list so many particulars of Solovyov’s career and why his talents were clearly superior to those of Köhler that Gary rolled his eyes and Kirk gave Spock his best smile. Janice gave him a funny look over that, but he shrugged it off and suggested she pilot the boat back to the halfway point.

Janice’s piloting made Gary’s piloting look like a model of prudence and his positively tame. She seemed determined to beat all water speed records, and when she stopped and let Carol take over her good mood was entirely restored.

She settled in next to Jim in the back seat and rested her head against his shoulder. He took her hand. But he was very aware of the Vulcan warmth pressed close to his other side. 

 

II.

Six weeks later…

 

Charged with excitement, Kirk stood at parade attention in the Federation Hall, other cadets from the Axanar mission standing close behind him.

Kirk’s gaze swept over the formal auditorium. They’d packed in as many admirals, ambassadors, and other dignitaries as could fit behind the curving sweep of the front dais which was backed by rows of flags from member Federation planets. Countless thousands of diplomatic corps members and Starfleet personnel in dress uniforms – active duty personnel, instructors and cadets – filled the rest of the cavernous room.

He’d never felt this high, never felt this sense of soaring over everything else that had ever happened in his life. Speeches were being made, one VIP after another making pronouncements about the significance of their achievement at Axanar. The past two months had shot by in a blur – random fragments of memory flowed through his mind as he listened to speeches about the significance of this mission. As Admiral Barnett spoke about how the main Federation worlds had truly coalesced into one united force he remembered the multispecies crew on the Farragut, and how he had learned so much about so many peoples in their voyage to Axanar. As Ambassador Jen Shu Ixten of the Fabari spoke about the benefits of peace and the new bonds of friendship that had been formed between the Axanari and his people, memories flashed through Kirk’s mind: he had stumbled upon the assassination plot by some disaffected Axanari rebels against the Axanari Leader and prevented a tragedy at the very last second. He’d woken up in the Farragut Sickbay, being treated for his injuries by a grouchy, verbose doctor named Leonard McCoy, who he’d bonded with on the voyage back to earth over poker and bourbon.

The lizardlike Axanari representative, Mjiëv, imposing in flowing black and scarlet robes, began speaking, the Universal Translator rendering hir words flat and accentless. “We of Axanar welcome our new siblings in peace. We recognize your dichotomy into brethren and sistren, and we hope to learn much from our differences. We have not sought out siblings among the manyworlds, this we now recognize as a false perception on our part. We now welcome the opportunity for our people to be as siblings to others so much different from ourselves. We have much to offer, as do you. May it be of peace and prosperity to all our peoples. “

Awards and medals were handed out. And now, it was his turn. Adrenaline raced through his body as Admiral Richard Barnett called him forward. “James T. Kirk, in commendation for your achievements on the Axanar Peace Mission, I award you the Palm Leaf medal.”

Applause erupted, and he turned to face the audience, aware of the huge smile that had spread across his face. Janice, Gary, and Carol were seated together, and they all clapped enthusiastically. He nodded ever so slightly, then glanced over the rest of the audience.

There, on the opposite side of the auditorium, was Spock. He didn’t smile or clap, but as their eyes met something told Kirk he was as happy for Kirk’s achievement as Kirk’s other friends.

Ambassador Mjiëv stepped forward with a circular red metallic object. “I am honored to present to you on behalf of the Axanari people our highest honor, to thank you for your important service to our people, to show the wide universe that we are all truly siblings.” Ze affixed the medal to Kirk’s upper right shoulder and stepped back. He bowed in appreciation.

After the ceremony was over he stepped outside into the cold night air and was immediately surrounded by wellwishers crowding against him. “Thank you,” he said, and again, to at least half of the plebes at the Academy, and many of the upperclasspersons as well. Spock emerged from the sea of faces momentarily and said something, but in the din Kirk couldn’t make out his words.

He shouted, “Chess game tomorrow?”

Spock mouthed the word, “Affirmative,” and melted back into the crowd.

The crowd began thinning. Janice, Gary and Carol steered him away in the direction of Zephram’s bar. Rounds were ordered, toasts proposed and drunk, and half-conversations held with the crowd of people crammed into the noisy bar. Still high on the evening’s events, already looking forward to the next round of athletic “welcome home sex” from Janice, he knew he’d be equally happy tomorrow to sit with Spock in the student center and see if he could beat the Vulcan’s pants off, metaphorically speaking, in their long-promised chess game. This time I’ll beat him. One part of his mind was already considering chess strategy, even as he accepted another drink and got involved in another political conversation with a half-drunk upperclassman, who was torn between envy that he hadn’t been on the Axanar mission and ecstatic over the new possibilities now opening to the Federation. Then the band started up again, he took Janice out onto the dance floor, and lost himself in the whirl of light and sound and motion.

 * * * * *

The message was waiting for him on his comm the next day – where and when for their chess rematch. Spock had the chess board already set up in the same niche chamber at the student center when he arrived. Kirk settled down opposite him.

“I wish to offer my congratulations on your receipt of the Palm Leaf of Axanar Peace Mission.”

“Thank you. It was the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Perhaps it will be the first of many opportunities.”

”That’s the plan.” Kirk settled back in his chair.

“I understand you were injured in the course of performing your mission.”

“Yes, I got caught in an explosion.”

“When you saved the life of the Axanari Leader?”

“Yes.”

“The newscasts have not agreed on the particulars of what happened.”

Kirk grimaced. “They’re good at getting it wrong. I’d been assigned to monitor the navigational patterns of the vessels in Axanari space when I noticed a power anomaly in one of the private Axanari ships. Masters focused the sensors on the ship and I realized what they were doing – punching a pinpoint hole in the security forcefield around the conference center, big enough to transport a person through. I told Uhura to alert planetary security and then had myself beamed through the hole a second after the other person beamed through.”

“You could have died,” Spock observed.

Kirk felt warmed by the expression of concern in the dark eyes.

“I didn’t,” he said. “Kyle could transport a pebble onto the top of a Thringian feather-branch and it wouldn’t fall. He beamed me right into the Council Chamber, behind the Axanari leader. The rebel had a phase bomb. I grabbed it and hurled it back as quickly as I could. Security phasered it in mid air. The shockwaves knocked down one of the structural supports. Security had already put up a protection field but I was caught on the wrong side. I was hit by falling debris.”

“You are to be congratulated for your quick action, which may have saved the entire peace process.” Spock was looking at him intently, which made his conventional words seem something – more, somehow. These were not words spoken as some polite cliché; Kirk had difficulty interpreting what else lay in the Vulcan’s gaze.

“It made me want to go right back out there. I can’t wait until my first deep space assignment. Cpt. Garrovick told me that he already plans to request me for his ship for my first posting.” Kirk gestured at the chess board. “Shall we?”

Spock chose a classic opening move, just as Kirk expected and prepared for. He made his move.

Spock considered the board. “Unconventional,” Spock commented.

“Of course,” Kirk said, and leaned back as Spock studied the board and countered.

They fought a hard and furious game. Kirk had Spock’s king in check at one point. Spock actually frowned at the board. “Your manner of play is most illogical.”

“There’s a certain logic to illogic.”

One of Spock’s eyebrows darted upward. Kirk found himself ridiculously pleased by that gesture.

Spock studied the board again, and then chose a move which allowed him to escape Kirk’s trap. In two more moves he had Kirk in checkmate. “I choose to rely on logic,” he said smugly.

Kirk conceded. “Rematch?”

Spock reset the board and they started a new game. The room had gotten noisier and more crowded, but Kirk tuned everything out in his focus on the board. As before, they went through the moves quickly. Kirk had his goal in sight – he could see the path to victory clearly. He was beginning to understand the path of Spock’s logic; the channels in which rationality guided his play.

Then a group of people passed close by. A man who had been obviously partying hearty tripped and stumbled against their table. The chess set tipped over and several pieces fell to the floor. The man walked on, oblivious. Spock and Kirk reached simultaneously to retrieve the fallen pieces.

Their fingertips brushed together as they touched the same rook. Spock drew in a sudden intake of breath, and Kirk felt a sudden wave of heat from the hand and arm so close to his. Kirk straightened and was startled to see a green flush across Spock’s face. Spock averted his gaze for a moment, and his complexion returned to its normal faint olive shade.

Unsettled, and suddenly very very horny, Kirk was no longer in the mood for chess. He noticed again how very kissable Spock’s mouth was, and wondered what it would be like to suck on the tips of those ears. He wondered suddenly if he was broadcasting these thoughts when Spock turned a startled gaze his way.

Their eyes met and held. He drew in a deep breath, and suddenly needed to move. Now if only his dick would cooperate by settling down. “Would you like to go for a walk? We can play another game some other time.”

“I can reset the board - I remember where all the pieces were.”

“How about we go to the Centauri for some lunch? I’m getting a bit hungry.”

Spock was still staring at him, then suddenly looked away. “That would be acceptable.” He busied himself packing the chess set.

Kirk welcomed the slap of foggy cold air as they exited the student center. Not quite a cold shower, but good enough. Almost. Spock still looked good enough to fuck. He wondered how Vulcans handled propositions. A month away from Janice and a week back dealing with her complaints and her envy of his achievement had gotten on his nerves.

Kirk mentally changed the subject. “I was going to win.”

“That is an erroneous assumption,” Spock said smugly as they headed in the direction of the Centauri.

The small off-campus lunch place was bright with winter holiday decorations, and warm, a welcome contrast to the dank cold outside. Spock ordered an eggplant and tofu dish, while Kirk got a hot chicken sandwich and coffee. Kirk smiled when Spock ordered hot chocolate. With marshmallows. It seemed such an unVulcanly thing to do.

“Do you have plans for the winter break?” Kirk asked, a half-formed idea of inviting Spock to join him in Iowa for at least a few days crossing his mind.

“My preference would be to remain on campus. The quiet of the winter break would be an opportune time to pursue some research projects I have not been able to undertake during the regular school year. However, my uncle has invited me to stay with him in Seattle, and I have accepted.”

“Seattle?” Kirk asked. “Is this a temporary post?”

“Negative. My uncle was born there.”  
“Do many Vulcans live on Earth permanently?” Kirk didn’t think this was common, but there were always exceptions.

“My uncle is Human – my mother’s brother.”

Kirk was equally startled and fascinated. “I hadn’t realized that was possible.”

“It was, I understand, quite a technical achievement.”

“How did your parents meet?”

“Here in San Francisco, at an embassy function. My mother taught xenolinguistics at San Francisco University. She had been studying the Vulcan language and welcomed the opportunity to attend this event.”

“So you’re connected to both our worlds. What’s your uncle like?”

“He is a very intelligent Human and I would welcome the opportunity to discuss many matters with him. However, he has three small noisy children and four rambunctious dogs. At last count. There may have been additions he has neglected to inform me about.”

Kirk laughed at the mental image. “So you’d rather stay here and work.”

“It would be a more productive use of my time.”

“Well, good luck.”  
“And you – what are your plans for the winter break?”

“I’m going back to stay with my mother in Iowa for the first few days, then I’m meeting up with Janice in Zurich. We’re going skiing.”

Spock leaned slightly forward as he asked, “Is Ms. Lester a temporary or permanent mate?” At Kirk’s startled look, he pulled back in his seat. Something closed down in his eyes. “That was inappropriate of me. I offer my apology.”

Kirk wanted, very badly, to ask why he was asking. The energy that had passed between them when their hands had touched was still singing through his body, and he was now very aware he wanted this man in front of him.

“Janice and I are dating, but we haven’t known each other for very long. We met at the beginning of the term.” She’d been taking part in an intense debate with their xeno-poli instructor during the first class of term, and her sheer intensity had attracted him right away. He’d taken her out speedskating, then to a late dinner, and then to bed, intoxicated by her mercurial energy and quick intelligence.

Spock was watching him closely. “Do Vulcans take temporary mates?” he asked.

“It is… not common.” Kirk heard, very clearly, the hesitation in Spock’s voice, and considered the implications. Was this a Vulcan proposition?

“But not unheard of?”

“No.” Spock’s deep voice hit a lower register. “No, it is not.”

“Is there someone you’re interested in?” Kirk leaned forward, intent on Spock’s answer.

Spock held his gaze for a moment. He seemed on the verge of speaking. Then something shuttered in the dark eyes and he straightened. “There is much I still need to learn. I have only lived among Humans for a short time.”  
It was a non-answer. Kirk didn’t press the point. He changed the subject, to their academic plans for the next semester, and spent the rest of their lunch talking about safe, technical subjects.

 * * * * *

Kirk didn’t have the chance to see Spock again before the winter break, but found himself often thinking about him, and that sudden charged heat between them. Spock’s lips, Spock’s hands, the deep timbre of his voice all came to mind at odd moments. He managed to keep his sexual thoughts at bay while he completed finals projects; however once he no longer had classwork to distract him, fantasies ran wild. His mother had arranged for a whirl of activities while he was in Iowa. Relatives showed up, old friends visited, holiday parties were held, and still he thought of Spock. At Zurich, he threw himself into skiing, partying with Janice and others at the hotel club, sitting on the enclosed verandah at sunrise admiring the breathtaking mountain view, having ravenous, passionate sex with Janice – and still he thought about Spock. Janice was voracious, and he tried – unsuccessfully – to bury the part of his mind which was fantasizing about Spock even as he buried himself in her body.

Once he was back at the Academy for the spring session, the first few days flew by as he settled into new classes and a new routine. He thought about Spock, but he didn’t have time for chess or much of anything but study and Janice. She’d been on a high since Zurich, and while her spiky personality could be wearing it could also be exhilarating. They were having some of the best sex he’d ever had, and he knew he had no business thinking sexually about anyone else. He didn’t know anything about Vulcans after all; the rational part of his mind reminded him he needed to focus on studies. Janice and he had a tacit agreement, as did most cadets, that it was way too early to think of exclusive relationships, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get jealous as hell. No need to complicate things at this point.

He settled into place for the first lab session of his latest class. Branson, one of Finnegan’s flunkeys, was also in the class and Kirk inwardly groaned when he saw the huge man had been assigned the table directly to his right. Fortunately, Finnegan himself was not in this class. He hadn’t seen much of the upperclassman recently, though the second day back Finnegan had managed to catch him in a minor infraction, which required Kirk shine Finnegan’s boots every night that week. Not for the first time Kirk had considered the hazing system ridiculous and outdated, but there it was: tradition.

Kirk studied the notes for the holographic project they’d been assigned. A deep space vessel’s baffle plate was in danger of rupturing, potentially exposing the crew to lethal Delta rays or even causing a catastrophic breach of the warp core. They would be given 30 minutes to program a holographic solution to the problem.

Professor DeLeon entered – and so did his TA.

It was Spock.

The sight of the Vulcan jolted Kirk pleasantly, and he smiled when the Vulcan’s gaze settled on him. One eyebrow twitched slightly, but otherwise Spock did not react to his presence.

Professor DeLeon gave a quick overview of the assignment, expounded a bit on his notes, and then the timed session began.

Kirk concentrated on the problem. Fingers and voice commands flew as he developed a model of a triple-pinpoint focused forcefield using standard engineering deck equipment to hold the baffle plate in place while conventional repairs could be effected. He finished the last equation just as the “time” buzzer sounded.

Professor DeLeon settled at the front of the classroom. “Mr. Spock, please comment on the projects.”

Spock proceeded to each holo display, commenting and critiquing the solutions. Most of the students had found a workable solution, some similar to Kirk’s.

Spock stopped at Kirk’s table and examined the holo. “Very good, Mr. Kirk. You have a more than sufficient power source for your force fields, and the trajectories of the beams are optimized for best results. An elegant solution.”

“Thank you, sir.” He kept his expression professional and businesslike.

Spock passed on to the next student and Kirk settled back into his chair, absurdly pleased by the praise. He decided he’d comm Spock and suggest another chess game.

Spock had stopped at Branson’s table, to the right of Kirk’s. “Mr. Branson, the J3 class servos you chose are inadequate to the task. I estimate that if these were used in a real situation, your crew would have less than 35 seconds before the baffle plate blew, resulting in the deaths of the entire crew. If you would recall the situation in the assigned reading regarding the destruction of the SS Hamilton, where they attempted a similar solution, the power component was inadequate to the task at hand.”

Kirk was riveted by the look of sheer hatred that flashed across Branson’s face as he glared at Spock. Branson’s muscles bunched, and for an instant Kirk thought the other student would leap to his feet and go for Spock. He half stood himself, in hyper-alert to potential danger, when Brandon slumped back into his chair. “Yes, sir.”

Spock proceeded on to the next student, but Branson’s gaze travelled with him and Kirk noticed that even after Spock had finished his comments and Professor DeLeon had begun his conclusion, Branson’s gaze was never far from Spock.

Kirk’s comm sounded the moment he left class and he paused by the sidewalk, breathing in the damp cold air. It was Gary. “Hey, gotta cancel tonight’s festivities. Ran into a problem with the assignment for Cherng’s class, and Carol’s too busy to help me out.”

“In other words, you’re going to have to do your own work. Tough luck. I thought you and Carol had gotten back together.” Gary and Carol had had an epic blowup over the holidays; he’d heard quite a lot of about it from Carol, who he’d run into at his favorite hole-in-the-wall. He’d intended to spend some serious study time with his padd and an endless supply of coffee. She’d told him more than she’d intended about the argument she and Gary had had. She’d then apologized for being a whiner, but couldn’t resist saying she expected he knew all about it. He told her truthfully that Gary had grunted a few words about his sucky holiday when he returned from the break, but hadn’t said anything else except that he and Carol were on the outs. They’d since gotten back together, but quite clearly things were still rocky.

“Nothing that won’t blow over.” Gary waved a dismissive hand. “Later,” he said and clicked off. Kirk turned – and stopped, startled. Spock was standing a few feet away.

The Vulcan was wearing a long black coat and a dark green muffler around his neck. His head was bare. The cold damp air had brought out patches of green on his cheeks, which made Kirk want to press his lips there.

He decided to ask about Spock’s holiday instead. “How were the children? And the dogs?”

The tiniest of smiles quirked Spock’s lips. “Noisy and badly behaved because of the new playthings they all received.”

“Including the dogs?”

“Affirmative. All of the playthings flashed lights and made raucous sounds which caused great exuberance among them all.”

Kirk laughed at the image Spock’s words conjured. “I hope you managed to have a good time anyway.”

“While Vulcans are hesitant to endorse the concept of ‘good times’, I did have a number of productive discussions with my uncle and some of his colleagues.”  
“I’m glad.”

“Was your holiday satisfactory?”  
“It was great,” Kirk enthused. “Going home was nice, but Iowa was freezing cold. So I traded the snow there for the snow in Zurich. Have you ever been to the Alps?” At Spock’s negative, he described the gorgeous scenery, the great skiing, the sheer sense of aliveness he felt when he was in the mountains. He didn’t mention Janice at all, and Spock did not inquire about her.

They had walked across half the campus without either asking about the other’s destination when Spock paused at the sight of Branson coming out of one of the campus stores. Branson stopped at the sight of him, and Kirk and Spock both came to a halt. Kirk felt his hands form fists, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Mr. Branson,” Spock said. “I have been considering your solution to the holo program.”

Branson’s entire body stiffened and his brows furrowed together. Kirk groaned inwardly, thinking it would have been better to have just walked on and ignored Branson.

Spock continued, “A better choice would have been the B4 servos which would have sufficient power to hold the baffle plate in place before a more permanent repair could be made. I would recommend reading—“

“Mind your own business, Spock! I don’t need your half-breed interference!” Branson was right in Spock’s face, screaming at him, specks of spit flying. Kirk stepped forward, but Spock did not back down, nor did he change expression. Branson jabbed a finger at Kirk. “I see you had plenty of praise for your boyfriend here! What did you do, give him the answer ahead of time?”

“There is no logic to any of your statements. Your accusation of cheating is unacceptable.”

“You people just can’t be trusted! Watching us like some kind of freak nannies!”

“Branson, you’re out of line!”

Branson swung his head toward Kirk. “Shut up, plebe!” He glared back at Spock. “Fuck you, greenblood, you think you’re so fucking superior! You and all those other pointyears. How could a human woman let herself be polluted by one of your people?”

Kirk saw something flare in Spock’s eyes and the Vulcan raised one hand.

He grabbed Spock’s arm. “Spock!”

Spock froze, so still, every muscle bunched and rock-hard, so that his arm felt like Kirk was grasping that of a statue.

Then Spock drew in a deep breath and stepped back.

“Mr. Branson, your language is unacceptable.” Their gazes, hot as lasers, still held.

Then Branson noticed they’d attracted a crowd. “Shove it up your ass,” Branson spit and stalked off.

“I’d love to smash his face in,” Kirk mumbled, then glanced toward Spock.

“Violence solves nothing.” Spock’s eyes were distant, and he was still tense. Kirk realized he was still grasping Spock’s arm, and let his hand drop. Spock didn’t look at him or at any of the people surrounding them, who were now quickly dispersing.

Kirk pulled in a deep breath, then another. Spock remained absolutely still for another moment longer, and then something in him relaxed. When he looked back at Kirk, his face was entirely devoid of expression, reminding Jim forcefully of the reputation Vulcans had for complete nonemotion. I guess they can just turn it off like that.

Quick, think of some other subject. “I’m looking forward to Ruth Gardner’s practice sessions for the upcoming advanced placement pilot qualifying test. I saw that we’re in the same sessions. I hear Ms. Gardner’s the best.”

“It will be a fascinating challenge.” Spock relaxed fractionally, and Kirk could see a gleam re-enter his eyes.

They’d resumed walking, and began discussing the finer points of the shuttlecraft and other smaller vessels that were commonly used in the qualifying tests for Gardner’s class. They ended up having coffee and tea in a tiny café just off campus, still deep in discussion about previous pilot challenges. By the time they headed off to their separate destinations, Kirk had almost forgotten about Branson.

* * * * *

Stark naked, Janice paced back and forth in her small room, tapping at her comm, pausing by the window for a second, then tapping again. “That shit!” she said murderously.

“Who is it this time?” Kirk said, having a hard time mustering up the energy to stay awake. They’d just had a very satisfying fuck and he had been enjoying lying collapsed in a heap on her torn-apart bed. Then her comm had sounded a tone announcing the arrival of a message, and she hadn’t been able to resist checking it.

“Professor McHenry, that’s who! He said my last paper ‘lacked citations’ and that my conclusions were ‘weak’. He demanded! demanded! a redo! He’s out to get me, that’s it!”

“Janice, he’s not out to get you.”

She whirled on him, eyes flashing, gooseflesh on her bare skin. “Whose side are you on anyway?”  
He stood and took her by the shoulders, then caressed her hair. “Yours, Janice. But you need to pay attention to what McHenry wants. This is crucial for your grade.”

She let him rub her back, but angry intense energy was radiating from her like a solar flare. “I’ll look at it again,” she said grudgingly. “I think it’s fine the way it is, though. Hey, I hear you got into an argument with that Branson. Over the Vulcan. Why do you hang out with him anyway?”

“Because I like him.”

“He’s so cold. It’s hard to believe he’s part human. That just bothers me – gak. Carol said it has to be bioengineering. But what’s the point?”

“Janice. Spock is my friend. Don’t disrespect him.”

She pulled back from him and gave him a cold glare. “Don’t disrespect me.”

“Janice, look.” Kirk paused, trying to fight down exasperation and anger. “Spock’s my friend. Branson’s an asshole. He’s just looking for another way to cause trouble for me.”

A smile quirked her lips. “Watch out; he’ll be having you polish his boots next.”

Kirk groaned. “I’m sure that’s coming. I can’t wait for this year to be over with; then I won’t have to put up with Finnegan and his shit anymore. And one thing – I swear this – I’m never going to act like any of them.”

She laughed. “Who knows how we’ll act in a year or three?”

“I mean it, Janice. I’m never going to act like that.”

She shrugged, then headed toward the shower. For once, he decided not to join her.

 

 * * * * *

“Checkmate.” Kirk sat back in satisfaction, exulting in the look of consternation on Spock’s face, who was staring at the chessboard in complete disbelief. Spock looked like he was doing an instant replay of their game in his head. Kirk sat with a patient smile as he did so.

“Most illogical,” Spock said finally, a clear note of exasperation on his voice.

“Illogic has its merits.”

Kirk stretched and looked around Professor DeLeon’s office, where they were seated at a conference table. The remains of their lunch were shoved to one side of the table. Kirk had volunteered to assist Professor DeLeon in one of his projects for extra credit, and he was working closely with Spock on the specifications. “Break time’s almost over.” He took a sip of coffee. “But I think we can fit in one more game.” He looked inquiringly at Spock.

“I believe there is sufficient time.” Spock, of course, never needed to consult a chronometer.

There was no clumsy student nearby. They were quite alone in the office. He reached out for a rook, intending to reset the board. Spock reached for the same piece, an instant behind him. Long fingers caressed his closed hand and withdrew an inch or two. The same surge of heat jolted through him.

Speechless, he stared at Spock. That had to have been deliberate… hadn’t it? Spock stared back at him. Kirk felt caught in Spock’s intense gaze. He was almost certain there was a veiled invitation there. Without thinking, he reached over and covered Spock’s hand with his. Something softened in Spock’s gaze – and then heated.

He thought of Janice. He would never have imagined it would be so hard to make his touch into a brief caress, just like Spock’s, and then pull his hand away.

At the instant he did so, a sound distracted him. He turned and saw a female student – he recognized her as Amalie Pederson from class – staring at them with a peculiar expression on her face.

“May I help you?” He looked back at Spock, whose hands were neatly folded in his lap.

“Uh…” Her gaze flitted from one man to the other. “Professor DeLeon said to meet him here. I know I’m early.”

“He is due back in 14.5 minutes,” Spock said. He indicated a desk in the corner. “You may wait here, if you like.”

“OK. If you don’t mind.” She glanced from one man to the other again, and when Spock said nothing she seated herself at the desk.

Spock began putting away the chess set. As he did so, he began discussing the project he and Kirk were working on for Professor DeLeon, and Kirk followed his lead. It was easy enough to get back in the discussion, and by the time Professor Deleon arrived he had almost forgotten Amalie was there.

 

* * * * *

He and Spock were leaving their next work session with Professor DeLeon a couple of days later when they found Finnegan and his lackeys right outside the building.

Finnegan looked them up and down and snickered. “I always knew you were an alien lover, Kirk. I wonder what Vulcan dick looks like?” he said conversationally to his friends.

“Like limp celery?” Branson offered. They guffawed.

Kirk stepped closer, getting right into Finnegan’s face.

Finnegan smirked. “Ah ah ah, Jimmy-boy. Fancy medal and all, you’re still just a plebe, remember that.”

Kirk’s right hand clenched. He felt the touch of a long-fingered hand on his shoulder and shot a quick look in Spock’s direction. “Cadet Kirk, what he says is of no consequence.”

“How sweet. The green blood is concerned for you. Where do you get the time, Jimmyboy? What does Lester think about your friend?”

Kirk felt his muscles bunch. “Cadet Kirk,” Spock said again, tightening his grasp on Kirk’s shoulder.

“They’re just like robots, aren’t they? Why don’t you just go get a mechanical doll, plebe? Better than that.” He aimed a contemptuous glare at Spock. “We got stuck with your mother’s textbook in our linguistics class. I should put in a complaint. Your mother is an alien-loving whore.”

Spock’s fingers jerked spasmodically on Kirk’s shoulder. Kirk shook off Spock’s touch. “Screw regulations.”

 

It was pure pleasure smashing Finnegan’s face in, and doing the same to his two minions for good measure. Scrubbing out the Science Building’s lower floor by hand sucked, as did Janice’s fury over their ruined plans and her diatribe over his lack of consideration for her feelings. But what kept his mind occupied during the length of his menial chore was the expression he’d seen on Spock’s face after Kirk stepped back from the fight, all three of his opponents groaning on the ground. The iron control had dropped, and intense worry, concern, and, yes, caring, had shone from those brown eyes.

Spock had brushed his face with one hand, touching the blood dripping from his mouth. “You are injured,” he had said.

“It’s nothing,” he’d replied, and smiled through the sting of his smashed lip. They’d walked away from the scene without a backwards glance.

Speculation on what it all meant, from the heat that flared between them at the simple touch of their hands, to Spock’s question about ‘temporary mates’, to how to interpret the multiple meanings of Spock’s expressions, and the memory of the touch of that hand on his shoulder and the concern on his face - kept his mind occupied the entire time he spent kneeling and scrubbing, kneeling and scrubbing.

 

* * * * *

Zephram’s house band hit several thunderous chords and took their break. Kirk, Janice clinging tightly to his arm, headed back from the dance floor to their table. Just ahead of them, Carol dislodged Gary’s hand from her ass, and took her seat. The servobot delivered another pitcher of beer to their table, and they quickly refilled their glasses.

Kirk took a long draught. Janice, already drunk, downed a third of her glass in a nanosecond.

Mitchell leaned forward. “Did you hear the one about the Vulcan and the Andorian?”

Mitchell reached the punchline and Janice shrieked with laughter. She shot Kirk a malicious glare.

What the hell? Janice had been acting weird every since he’d met her outside the bar. He’d assumed it was because he hadn’t been able to see her for the last week due to his punishment and his classwork.

“I’ve got one!” Janice countered with a joke of her own, all about Vulcan genitalia, and Mitchell howled with laughter.

Carol sat back in her chair and folded her arms. Kirk had already heard Gary’s side of their latest argument.

“That attitude’s not going to get you far if you’re ever assigned to a first contact mission,” Kirk pointed out.

Gary and Janice stared at him. “Hey Jim, where’s your sense of humor?” Gary asked, and shoved the pitcher of beer toward him.

Janice took another long draught. “I plan to be a captain of a starship one of these days,” she proclaimed, her speech somewhat slurred.

Mitchell groaned. “You can be my first officer,” he said magnanimously.

“No,” Kirk interrupted. “I’ll be captain. You two figure out who’s going to be my first.”

“In your deluded dreams,” Mitchell treated them to a condescending smile. “I can fly rings around both of you any day.”

“It takes a lot more than that to be a good captain,” Kirk insisted. “There’s a big universe out there, filled with all kinds of people – and we can learn a lot from all of them.”

“Yes, like where the best dilithium fields are,” Janice offered, eyes gleaming as she contemplated the prospect. “Though the new sensor technology and satellite-based mining means we won’t have to do a lot of diplomacy – assuming anyone’s at home to protest. Besides, we can give them a few trinkets and they’ll be happy. Leave diplomacy to the losers in Xenolinguistics. They’ll like what we have to offer.”

“There’s more to the universe than dilithium,” Kirk said. “And we can’t count on humans being superior to any race we come across. Remember, the Vulcans made it to space before we did. We’ll get a lot better results approaching other people with respect.”

“Is that why you’re sucking up to that Vulcan?”

“I’m treating him with the respect that he deserves.”

“Well, aren’t you the sensitive hero.” Mitchell regarded him appraisingly. “Why are you sticking up your neck for him anyway? Vulcans don’t give a crap about us.”

“They act like we’re dirt anyway,” Janice chimed in.

“Not Spock,” Kirk said.

“Don’t you see the way he looks down that nose of his? He’s probably some kind of spy. Why is he in Starfleet anyway? They have their own ships. They don’t need to mix with us.” Janice looked at him challengingly.

Carol slid out of her chair. “Back in a minute,” she said, and disappeared into the crowd. Gary, thinking along similar lines, got up as well.

Janice fixed Kirk with a hard glare.

“Why are you spending so much time with that Vulcan anyway?”

“Is this about last weekend? I’ve already said I was sorry I couldn’t go with you to London. How about we could go the weekend after mid-terms. I need to finish that astrobiology assignment.”

“You’ve only told me that 20 times.”

“Janice,” Kirk said coldly, “What’s this about?”

Janice swallowed more beer. “Finnegan’s been saying a lot of trash about you and the Vulcan.”

“Finnegan’s an ass. And ‘the Vulcan’ has a name – he’s Spock.”

She slammed her glass down, spilling beer. “Just my point exactly!”

“What the hell are we talking about?”

“Him! That Vulcan! Why are you hanging around with him anyway? You said you had to do that extra work for Professor DeLeon, but Ginevra told me that Amalie told her that you were playing chess with the Vulcan in his office and that you looked very very friendly.” She spit the last word, her eyes full of fire.

“Spock’s his TA. We needed a break.”

“What could you possibly have to say to him? He was so boring when we all went on that boat trip last fall.”

Kirk barely glanced at Gary as he settled back into his seat and picked up his beer. “He’s interesting,” Kirk said. “He knows a lot about ships. Do you know he already knows how to fly a F-3100? I’d kill to fly one of those babies. We’ll be taking Ms. Gardner’s class in piloting together next semester.

“Ah, Ruth. That is one hot woman,” Gary said admiringly.

Kirk privately agreed with Gary, but he knew better than to say so. Janice shot him a murderous look anyway.

“You still talking about Spock?” Gary asked, just as Carol rejoined them. “Well you gotta admit, Jim, he is a smartass, loves to show off everything he knows in class, but if he can handle a F-3100…” Gary whistled in admiration.

Music blared again. Janice grabbed Kirk’s arm and levered herself to her feet. “Let’s dance.”

He shook her off, suddenly repulsed at the sight of her. “I’m going home. The Astrophysics exam is tomorrow.”

“You’ll ace it anyway. You’ve spent half this week on your padd.”

“Night, Janice.”

She leaped to her feet, glaring up at him.

“I know something you don’t,” she said in a singsong, nasty voice.

“Janice…”

“Finnegan was talking with his friends. They said they were going to get the Vulcan.”

Alarmed, Kirk asked, “Did they say what they were planning to do.”

She shrugged, smiled, and fixed him with a jealous glare. “They said behind the baseball field. Tonight.”

He shot to his feet and headed to the door. The crowd drowned out the noise of Janice screaming his name.

* * * * *

Bright security lights illuminated the deserted baseball field. Kirk raced through it, toward the wooded area climbing up the hill behind the Academy grounds. Breath loud in his ears, he stopped, scrutinizing the pathway and the surrounding trees, trying to see into nearly impenetrable blackness. He listened intently for any sound.

“Finnegan!” he shouted. “If you’re here, come out. We need to talk.”

Dead silence.

“Spock!” he shouted.

No response. A breeze briefly rustled leaves and died again.

Standing still, he realized he’d forgotten his jacket, and the chill and the damp quickly penetrated his thin shirt. Maybe Janice was lying just to get a rise out of him. Maybe Spock wasn’t out here. Maybe…

Nothing. No sound. Blackness surrounded him. Thin moonlight illuminated a bit of the path before him, and then it rounded a curve and disappeared into further darkness. No one was there. And yet…

Yet something was.

Kirk strained, listening for even the slightest hint of sound. Nothing. And yet he suddenly knew where to go.

Wishing he had a flashlight – anything – he cut away from the path and onto the uneven forest ground. He picked his way carefully. Deceptive glints of moonlight penetrated at odd places, illuminating bits of branches, gnarled roots thrusting up through the earth.

Over there. A small clearing. Something.

A darker shape, pressed against a tree.

No. Lashed to a tree.

Adrenalin pumping, he crossed the remaining ground in two strides,

Thick rope bound Spock tightly to the tree. His head lolled over his chest. The side of his face Kirk could see was black with blood.

Kirk, heart jolting, reached for Spock’s neck. Did Vulcans have a pulse like humans? The answer was immediately apparent – a rapid thrum pounded beneath fever-hot skin. “Spock?” he whispered. Then louder, “Spock!”

No response, but he could not hear the sound of Spock breathing. Kirk reached for his communicator. “Emergency services.”

“We have your position,” a female responder replied. “What is the emergency?”

“A cadet has been beaten, bound to a tree.”

“On our way.”

Kirk pressed on hand against Spock’s arm. “Spock, if you can hear me, help is on the way.”

He felt a shudder go through the other man, heard a deep intake of breath. Spock attempted to lift his head and mumbled something harsh in Vulcan.

“It’s me, Jim Kirk. I found you. Don’t try to move. You’ve been beaten and tied to a tree. Help is on the way.”

The moonlight showed a gleam of eye. A ragged breath, another. And then, barely audible. “Jim…?”

“Yes. Jim Kirk. Help is on the way.”

“They…” Spock paused to swallow.

“Was it Finnegan?”

“Yes.”

“And Morris and Branson?”

“Yes.”

Spock shifted his weight slightly, and let out a tiny gasp. Spock’s hands were tied behind the tree. Kirk found one of his hands, laid his own over it. At his touch Spock let out a long shuddering sigh. “They’ll be here soon.”

It seemed like forever before two figures sparkled into view. An instant after the transporter effect ended they were at Spock’s side, scanners working. One of them barked into her communicator, the other continued scanning.

“Alien,” the man with the scanner said to the woman.

“Vulcan,” Kirk said.

“Acknowledged,” she said, and spoke into the communicator again.

“How is he?” Kirk asked.

The man looked up from his scanner. “I don’t understand his readings. We’ll transport him to the Vulcan Embassy.”

Shimmer and sound, and two more people transported in, along with an antigrav stretcher.

Feeling helpless, Kirk watched as two people supported Spock while another cut him free from the tree. They gently placed Spock on the stretcher.

One more communication, and three of them and the stretcher vanished from view.

“Come with me,” the remaining responder said. “We’ll need your report.”

* * * * *

Thirteen messages arrived from Janice that night. He deleted them all. Then he sent one of his own, short and succinct: “It’s over between us.”

 * * * * *

He was at the Vulcan Consulate - a large, featureless, sand colored building located just north of Golden Gate Park - the moment the facility opened to the public the next morning.

Kirk entered through the unobtrusive security sensors. Inside, the building was suffused with a reddish-tinged light. Kirk blinked his eyes, adapting, breathing in a subtle scent which reminded Kirk of the smell of desert plants in the Sonoran desert.

He walked over to a large desk which looked like it had been made from a giant slab of obsidian. It gleamed darkly under the reddish light.

A stern-faced Vulcan woman, hair cut in the same severe style Spock wore but bearing traces of silver, stood behind the desk. “What is the nature of your business?” Her voice was as expressionless as that of a servobot, but it held the faintest trace of an accent.

“An acquaintance – “ he remembered in time not to use the word ‘friend’ – “was assaulted and injured on the Starfleet Academy campus last night. I would like to find out his condition.”

She contemplated him. Not the slightest trace of any kind of emotion marred her face. “You refer to S'chn T'gai Spock. His condition is stable.”

A wave of relief flooded him. “May I see him.”

“You may not,” she said. “He is not conscious.”

“May I visit him when he is?”

“When he awakens and is able he will be free to return to his customary pursuits. Until then he will remain in isolation. No visitors will be permitted at any time.”

“May I leave him a message then?”

The look she gave him made him feeling like an object under a microscope. “You may do so.” She gave him the comm code, which he took. He commed Spock a message as soon as he was back out on the street, then headed to Starfleet Headquarters. It was time to see if his Palm Leaf medal meant more than just a pretty ceremony. Once inside, he asked the receptionist if Admiral Richard Barnett was available. No, he didn’t have an appointment. Yes, it was important. It might impact diplomatic relations between Earth and Vulcan.

Admiral Barnett was in, and only kept him waiting three hours. By that time he had everything he intended to say thoroughly rehearsed.

 * * * * *

He heard nothing from Spock for the next ten very busy days, days spent talking with Academy officials, police officials, and one granite-faced Vulcan Embassy representative. And the media. He did dozens of interviews, turned down hundreds more. Through it all there was a constant undercurrent of concern – of fear – for Spock. He heard nothing, though the Vulcan representative assured him that Spock’s recovery was proceeding as anticipated.

There was also an explosive screaming match with Janice. He’d blocked her comm messages, so she’d routed around his security screens and sent him dozens more, all of which he deleted. She caught up with him after his Astrophysics class and they’d had it out in the plaza in front of dozens of interested bystanders.

He never heard the details of her final interview with an Academy higher-up, but after she went on an on-camera rant with a representative of the local media, he heard that she decided to quit before she was expelled.

When Kirk walked into Professor DeLeon’s course ten days later he stopped. Spock was in his customary place at the front of the room, and as soon as Kirk entered he met his gaze.

Kirk smiled, and Spock responded with a softening of his expression.

Kirk usually was completely absorbed by Professor DeLeon’s lessons, but found he couldn’t concentrate. Class time dragged until it was time to leave, and then he was instantly on his feet and by Spock’s side as they walked out into the plaza. Their presence immediately drew the attention of everyone passing by, but Kirk was grateful when no one stopped to talk. He indicated a bench by the fountain. As they walked over to it and sat down Kirk noticed that Spock looked quite pale, and was even more thin than he ordinarily was.

“How are you feeling?”

“I am recovered.”

“I tried to visit you, but they said you were unconscious and could not be disturbed.”

“Vulcan healing techniques require privacy.”

“You heard that Finnegan, Branson and Morris were expelled.”

“Affirmative.”

“They should have been brought up on assault charges.”

“The matter was discussed, however it was decided not to request such an action.”

“Finnegan’s father was all over the news.”

“He is on the Terran planetary council,” Spock pointed out in an expressionless voice.

“Politics! It’s not right.” Kirk tried to hide the sheer anger filling him at the injustice.

“I understand the incident created quite a controversy in your news media.”

Incident! You could have died… “That it did. Vidreporters were crawling all over campus, and it seems everyone on the planet has been posting their opinion.” He didn’t bother to add that much of that opinion had been of the virulent anti-alien bigotry that still infected so many minds.

“I saw your vidcast interviews and understand that you were successful in having the Academy implement new rules about the practice of ‘hazing’.”

“Traditions can be changed.”

“It takes a unique individual to effect such a change.”

“It was past time for this change.

They were silent for a moment. Spock’s gaze seemed focused inward; Kirk was content to just be in his company.

Spock met his gaze again. “I wish to say thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Kirk said warmly. “You know, spring break’s coming up.”

“I am aware of it.”

“Are you going to visit your uncle again?”

“Negative. He has taken his family offworld to a conference on Alpha Centauri and they will not return until April 23.”

“Have you ever been to Yosemite?”

“Negative.”  
“Would you like to see it? It’s astonishingly beautiful, and I’ve been wanting to climb El Capitan.”

“Who will be accompanying us?”

“I wasn’t planning to ask anyone else.” He gave Spock his best smile, and moved one hand to rest on the bench exactly between them.

Spock looked down at Kirk’s hand, and then back at Kirk’s face. Kirk gave him an encouraging smile.

Spock inched his hand over until his fingers brushed against Kirk’s. Electricity sang between them. The smallest of smiles touched his lips. “I would be most pleased to accompany you.”

 

* * * * *

 A twig snapped in the fire and sparks flew up in the air, then winked out one by one. Kirk felt pleasantly tired. They’d set up camp in a campground near the restored Hetch Hetchy Valley and then they’d taken a long hike. They’d come back to the campgrounds early as Kirk planned to tackle El Capitan in Yosemite Valley the next morning.

He sat with Spock in a companionable silence, having finished a wide ranging discussion on everything from the repercussions of the change in Academy policy to Ruth Gardner’s piloting class next summer.

Tired or not, he was very aware of the man sitting next to him. Spock was contemplating the fire, and the flickering light cast interesting shadows on the alien face. Spock turned to meet his gaze and their eyes held.

Kirk had been turning over various approaches in his mind. He knew how to approach women. He knew how to approach men. He didn’t have a clue how to approach a Vulcan. He remembered the jolt of sexual heat that had blazed through him at the touch of their hands, and that decided him.

He smiled and moved his hand a bit closer to Spock’s hand, until their fingers were almost touching. “I may be wrong, but I think you know I’m interested in you.”

Spock glanced at their hands, then looked back at Kirk’s face. “I believe I understand your meaning, but as with many other human words and phrases in Standard, what you said can be interpreted in multiple ways.”

“I am interested in you in multiple ways. As a friend…” He was encouraged by Spock’s slight nod. “As someone who excels at everything. And…” Spock gave him an encouraging look. “…a potential lover.”

“A temporary mate?” Spock asked.

”Yes.”

Interest flared in Spock’s eyes. He again glanced down at their hands. Only the tiniest of spaces separated them. He met Kirk’s gaze again. “I am… curious. You are no longer in a temporary arrangement with Ms. Lester.”

It was not a question, but Kirk answered it anyway. “No. I’m not.”

“I wish to understand how Humans choose temporary mates. It is done for the purposes of mating – but how do you make the choice?”

Curiosity flared in Kirk about how Vulcans made their choice – but he decided against answering a question with a question. “Mutual attraction,” Kirk said. “Mutual interests. And… it’s not always just for the purpose of, um, mating. There are some people you want to be with more than you want to be with anyone else. There are some things that make one person special – that person stands out in ways others don’t. And then you want them in all ways.”

Behind the stillness of his face, Spock’s gaze was electric. “Humans consider many questions appropriate that cannot be asked on Vulcan. I do not wish to invade your privacy. ”

“Ask away.” Kirk smiled encouragingly.

Spock swallowed. “Ms. Lester – how was the choice made?”

Kirk considered how to phrase this without making himself sound like a jerk. “With Janice – yes, a lot of it was the sex. She was the most exciting woman I have ever met.” Spock was watching him intently, not looking away for a second. “And she was smart, and she was willing to try all kinds of things. But the longer I knew her, the harder it was to stay with her. She hated the fact I was chosen for the Axanar mission and she wasn’t. Her envy was eating her alive. Even knowing that, I hadn’t realized what she was capable of. Until I found out she knew what Finnegan was planning to do to you. And she let it happen, and didn’t tell anyone. I could never forgive her for that.”

There was silence for a moment. Spock glanced down at their hands again. “You say you are interested in me as a temporary mate. A potential lover,” he added, his voice catching on the human term.

“If you’re interested. If not, I would be happy and proud to continue being your friend.”

Spock brushed his fingertips against Kirk’s, and that same sexual heat flared in Kirk like lightning. “You are an agreeable companion, James Kirk. I have wished to experience this… with you.”

Acting on instinct, Kirk placed his hand over Spock’s.

Spock took a quick intake of breath, and turned his hand, using two fingers to brush against Kirk’s hands, lingering at the tips of his fingers.

Sexual heat ignited in Kirk, flaring in every part of his body, strange and almost frightening in its alien intensity. Excited beyond thought at the magnitude of what he was experiencing, he moved over to Spock, encircling him with his arms. He pressed his mouth against Spock’s. Long fingers came up, caressed the sides of his face, then strong arms pulled him close. He found himself on top, exploring Spock’s mouth, which opened hesitantly to his. He devoured Spock’s mouth for long instants, then was rewarded when the hot alien tongue entered and explored his mouth.

He pulled away, a slight measure of sanity returning. “Tent,” he gasped, and they crawled inside.

A glow-bar at ground level provided dim light. Kirk spread their sleeping bags open and turned back to Spock. The light glittered in the alien eyes, which raked Kirk with fierce need.

Confident now, discarding all thought of a careful, gentle approach, Kirk brought their bodies together, their mouths meeting, all hesitancy on Spock’s part gone.

Feeling Spock’s rock-hard erection matching his own through the separate layers of their clothing, he reached for the fly of Spock’s jeans. “Shall we get rid of the clothing?”

“Only what is necessary.” Spock had his own boots, jeans and underwear off almost as quickly as Kirk had disposed of his own clothing.

Kirk eyed Spock’s erection, as large as his own and human in appearance. He reached to touch it. Spock gasped and threw his head back. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, stroking the cock from root to tip.

“Whatever you like,” Spock managed, then cried out when Kirk pressed his lips to the tip and licked gently. Spock’s hips jerked and Kirk opened his mouth wider, taking in the needy cock in slow motion. His own erection demanded attention, but he ignored it, enjoying the tiny sounds Spock made and the way the hot large hands were grasping his shoulders. He began sucking strongly, and the long fingers dug in, bruisingly deep. His own cock jerked, desperate. He used tongue and lips in the way he liked best, and suddenly Spock was there, at the peak, flooding his mouth with hot thick liquid. He swallowed it all, gently licking for a moment, and then pulled back. Spock’s eyes had a soft distant amazed quality; Kirk reveled in the sight.

Spock’s gaze refocused directly on Kirk’s erection, and a gentle hand moved Kirk over. Spock bent over him and found Kirk’s cock with his hotter-than-Human mouth. Kirk groaned at the lightning pleasure shooting through his body. Thought was impossible; he gave himself up to the sensations, and all too soon found himself erupting in a shattering orgasm.

He was dimly aware that Spock was trailing his fingers along his nearest shoulder and arm. He laced his fingers through Spock’s. His heart rate recovering, his breath returning to normal, he fumbled around with his unoccupied hand for the extra thermal blanket and tugged it over them. Spock was still holding one of his hands, and in the dim light he could see Spock watching him.

He grinned, and Spock offered the tiniest of smiles back.

“Are there traditions and rules in being a temporary mate?” Spock asked, his voice as deep as Kirk had ever heard it.

Kirk rolled over to face him. “The rules are whatever we want them to be. Do you want there to be any rules?”

Spock contemplated that for a minute. “Every aspect of Vulcan life is guided by tradition,” he replied. “I would like to try the Human way. With you.”

Kirk rested one arm across the Vulcan’s waist and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Then let’s just go exploring each other…”

Spock’s arm settled around his waist. Kirk pulled the blanket tight around then and began settling into sleep, ideas on just what they could explore the next day filling his mind. He had the feeling he wasn’t going to be doing much mountain climbing…


End file.
